Corridor
Most people have never been asked for a witness case in a murder, but that's exactly what I was asked to give. I was staying in this hotel one time and of all the times for a murder to occur, it was when me and my family were staying. The police found the victim, it was a brutal death. He was strangled, the hands grasped so tight around his neck that the flesh ripped on the sides. And yet, the police could find no evidence of the killer. So, of course, they step forward and ask if anyone in the hotel saw any shady characters around the time of the murder. They had told us the number of the hotel room it happened in and took a statement from all those who had been in the hotel at the time. I would have never thought that I might have some useful information, but casting my mind back to the night, I realized I had seen something strange. As I'd walked down to dinner, one of the doors had been left open. Maybe an old guest room, but it had no number and was usually closed. Curious in personality as I was and thinking nothing of it, I peered in around the corner of the door. All I saw was this: a fairly short corridor, which seemed to connect to an identical, parallel corridor to the one I was in now. There was a girl hanging around this corridor, maybe my age, looking my way, just another guest. Suddenly, one man came storming down the corridor joining her. He looked angry, and walked heavily. He was dressed in dirty white cotton trousers and shirt, and his long dark hair hung limp and greasy over two sharp eyes. There was a grimace on his face and he walked past me, then was gone around the corner. I know it sounds stereotypical, but guests at this hotel weren't like that, he looked too... dirty... really to be hanging about this place, especially in the evening. His anger and something else I can't put my finger on, made me get this awful vibe from him as he walked past. Back to the inquiry, I decided to report it. Just because it seemed out of place, especially when the murder had occurred maybe minutes after I saw this man. The police had no other leads at all apparently, so reluctantly two men who were keeping watch on the hotel (since it had happened so recently) asked if I could show them where I saw the man. It must have seemed silly and insubstantial evidence, but it was all they had to go on. So they followed me up to the 3rd floor where I'd saw it happen. The door was locked, so we had to ask some foreign staff for the keys, who looked at us questioningly for wanting the keys to this particular door but couldn't explain why because of the language barrier. And then, finally, after the grueling embarrassment and gnawing doubt I'd been feeling at bothering to report anything at all, the door was opened. At first glance, I saw the same thing as before. I actually thought I saw the girl from the night before... but two policemen were with her this time. I walked up the corridor and realized that it was not a corridor at all, but a disused room with a mirror as you came in through the door. The police snorted derisively and walked off, instantly dismissing my evidence. But I know that's where the killer came from. The other side of the glass. Category:Places